"Then who is supposed to do it?" Gross said. "I can have my organization prepare examinations of various kinds, to determine fitness, that kind of thing--" "Listen, Phil," Dolores said suddenly. "What?" She turned toward him. "I have an idea. Do you remember that professor we had in college. Michael Thomas?" Kramer nodded. "I wonder if he's still alive." Dolores frowned. "If he is he must be awfully old." "Why, Dolores?" Gross asked. "Perhaps an old person who didn't have much time left, but whose mind was still clear and sharp--" "Professor Thomas." Kramer rubbed his jaw. "He certainly was a wise old duck. But could he still be alive? He must have been seventy, then." "We could find that out," Gross said. "I could make a routine check." "What do you think?" Dolores said. "If any human mind could outwit those creatures--" "I don't like the idea," Kramer said. In his mind an image had appeared, the image of an old man sitting behind a desk, his bright gentle eyes moving about the classroom. The old man leaning forward, a thin hand raised-- "Keep him out of this," Kramer said. "What's wrong?" Gross looked at him curiously. "It's because _I_ suggested it," Dolores said. "No." Kramer shook his head. "It's not that. I didn't expect anything like this, somebody I knew, a man I studied under. I remember him very clearly. He was a very distinct personality." "Good," Gross said. "He sounds fine." "We can't do it. We're asking his death!" "This is war," Gross said, "and war doesn't wait on the needs of the individual. You said that yourself. Surely he'll volunteer; we can keep it on that basis." "He may already be dead," Dolores murmured. "We'll find that out," Gross said speeding up the car. They drove the rest of the way in silence. * * * * * For a long time the two of them stood studying the small wood house, overgrown with ivy, set back on the lot behind an enormous oak. The little town was silent and sleepy; once in awhile a car moved slowly along the distant highway, but that was all. "This is the place," Gross said to Kramer. He folded his arms. "Quite a quaint little house." Kramer said nothing. The two Security Agents behind them were expressionless. Gross started toward the gate. "Let's go. According to the check he's still alive, but very sick. His mind is agile, however. That seems to be certain. It's said he doesn't leave the house. A woman takes care of his needs. He's very frail." They went down the stone walk and up onto the porch. Gross rang the bell. They waited. After a time they heard slow footsteps. The door opened. An elderly woman in a shapeless wrapper studied them impassively. "Security," Gross said, showing his card. "We wish to see Professor Thomas." "Why?" "Government business." He glanced at Kramer. Kramer stepped forward. "I was a pupil of the Professor's," he said. "I'm sure he won't mind seeing us."